Saving Shawn Hunter
by deletedaccount447
Summary: Shawn's dad never came back from his search for Virna. Mr. Turner gets into his motorcycle accident and Shawn has to deal with the fall out. It doesn't go well. TW: self-harm, discussions of child abuse


Shawn couldn't even remember when he'd started cutting. Maybe it was the time his dad had beaten him while he was drunk. Maybe it was after his mom walked out the last time. After all these years, time seemed to blend together. He couldn't figure out when it had all started because it felt like he could never stop.

Some days, he wondered if he'd really lost his mind. What kind of person cuts up their own arms? It gave him some relief, sure, but the aftermath made him feel worse. In all the guilt and shame that came with cutting, he felt like he understood why his mom left him. Hell, his dad had left 11 months ago and he wasn't sure he'd be coming back either. He knew that they were supposed to be there—they were his parents, after all—but he also knew that he wasn't the easiest person to be around. Turner and the Matthews had put up with so much from him the past few years. They really deserved a break.

And now Turner could die. Shawn fought back tears thinking about it. He couldn't handle the image of Jon lying in that hospital bed. He looked so broken. The man who had taken him in, who had become like a father to him, was on the brink of death. It was too much to think about.

Shawn continued to spin his pocket knife between his fingers. He knew that he shouldn't cut, that it always felt like a mistake afterwards, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He needed the release of it. Everything was bottled up inside of him. He needed the pain. To help him clear his mind, to make things make sense again.

He usually cut himself on his upper arm, so he could hide it under just a t-shirt. Wearing long sleeves in the summer would make people suspicious and Shawn had plenty of scars to hide. But now, in the dead of winter, he thought he might be able to hide a few cuts on his wrist. People wouldn't be paying too much attention anyways, all eyes were on Turner.

Considering all of this, Shawn flicked the blade open and rolled up his sleeves. And he cut. First, the lines were thin and careful, but as he got caught up in the feeling of it, they grew deeper and more jagged. He knew it wasn't rational, but something about the sight of his own blood was grounding for him. It was like it proved he was alive.

Still, curled up in the corner of a hospital's bathroom stall, Shawn didn't feel very alive. He felt like a scared kid hiding from the world. The more he cut, the more tired he felt. Overwhelmed with emotion, he leaned back against the wall and started to cry. He cried for Jon, lying in the hospital bed. He cried for his mom and dad, who abandoned him in the trailer park. He cried for Cory and Topanga and all of the friends that he'd burdened with his life. He cried until he couldn't feel anymore and, eventually, the world went black.

x

When Shawn left Mr. Turner's hospital room, he told Cory that he needed a minute alone. Cory decided to let him go, but the more time passed, the more anxious he got. He knew that Shawn wouldn't leave while Turner was hurt, but he also knew that Shawn could be pretty impulsive when he was upset and that the Center had taken a real toll on him the past few days. Shawn had told him that there was no one who understood him, but, even after so much had changed, Cory still knew Shawn better than he knew himself.

And, knowing Shawn so well, he assumed that his friend would be hiding in the bathroom trying to calm himself down. Shawn didn't like to get upset in front of other people, always telling Cory that "Hunters don't cry." Cory, of course, knew that Shawn did cry. He knew that Shawn was a pretty sensitive guy, but he never dared to point that out to him.

Cory told his dad that he was going to look for Shawn and started walking down the hall towards the bathroom. When he opened the door, he immediately noticed the blood that was dripped on the tile. He looked up further and recognized his best friends hand outstretched under a door, covered in blood.

Filled with adrenaline, Cory ran over and kicked the door in. "Shawn!" he yelled, seeing his friend's body crumpled on the floor. He tried to shake him awake, but it was no use. He was unconscious and losing more blood by the second.

Cory pulled off Shawn's flannel, trying to see how much damage had been done, only to reveal hundreds of old scars underneath. He started to cry. "What did you do to yourself, Shawnie? Why would you do this?"

After a moment, Cory came to his senses and realized that Shawn needed medical attention. He ran back into the hallway and called out for a doctor. "Please!" he yelled, "My friend… He- He's bleeding out! He tried to kill himself!

x

Shawn woke up to a slowly beeping monitor. He was so exhausted, he couldn't quite open his eyes, and the blinding lights weren't exactly helping. Shaking himself awake, he remembered Turner and the accident. He remembered the sight of him there — so weak, so fragile, so pale — and started to grow anxious.

As his heart began racing, he noticed the monitor beeping faster. Why was Turner's monitor beeping so fast?

"Shawn. Shawn, are you awake?" That was Cory's voice. Shawn finally opened his eyes to see Cory sitting in front of him. Wait, why was Cory sitting at his bedside?

That was when he realized that he was the one in the hospital bed. His arms were covered in gauze and medical tape. There was an IV in his hand and a monitor on his finger. His whole body felt heavy and weak.

"Yeah, Cor," Shawn managed. For some reason, his throat felt raw and it was hard to speak. "What happened to me?"

"That's what I wanted you to tell me." Cory looked at him with sad eyes, confused and almost pitying. Shawn couldn't tell if he was angry or scared or just being downright condescending.

"Don't look at me like that." Cory wasn't supposed to look at him that way. He wasn't supposed to pity him. He was supposed to get that Shawn was tough, that he could handle himself. Bad things happened to him, sure, but he knew how to get through.

"Shawn, I found you bleeding out on the bathroom floor. You tried to kill yourself, man. How could you do that? How long have you been hurting yourself?"

Cory sounded defeated. Shawn could hear how exhausted he was, how frustrated he sounded. Still, he didn't sound frustrated with Shawn. It sounded like he felt like the world was against them, like nothing could ever go right, like he just wanted a minute of peace.

In that moment, Shawn remembered what had happened the night before. He remembered the panic of seeing Jon lying in that hospital bed. He remembered running into Cory on the way out of the room, telling him that he needed some space, that he needed to clear his head. He remembered dragging his old pocket knife across his wrist. He remembered, if just for a moment, that feeling of relief.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself, Cor. I'm sorry that you had to see me like that, but I promise that wasn't what I was doing."

Cory looked exasperated. "Then what were you doing in there? I found you with the knife. I saw all those scars on your arms."

Shawn looked down at his arms. Above all the gauze over his most recent cuts, he noticed his old scars peeking out from beneath his hospital gown. He wanted to tell Cory to shut up, to go away, to let it go. But he couldn't. He knew his friend had seen everything. He knew he deserved an answer.

The only problem was that Shawn didn't have an answer. He didn't know why he cut himself. He couldn't explain it. It made him feel alive? It almost killed him. He deserved the pain? He'd been beaten up enough times to last a lifetime. There was no reasonable, rational answer. There was no excuse.

Cory noticed his friend's distress. He watched him try to come up with something to say. "Just tell me the truth, Shawnie. You can tell me, I promise."

"I can't tell you, Cory. I can't tell you because I don't know."


End file.
